


Cherry Pie

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Series: Ripe Fruit [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4677500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's sure he's not the only one with a fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Pie

“You want to _what_?”

 

“Mutual masturbation, Sam. It’s not a bizarre concept.” Dean’s grins; he knows perfectly well that isn’t what Sam meant. “Well, more like mutual handjobs, but still.”

 

Sam ponders for a few moments, long enough that Dean feels the need to speak to fill the silence. “You and I both know I have a - a thing, man. But you can’t deny that you, too. You’re the one who kept bringing it up.”

 

“A kink, Dean. Sitophilia. And I don’t think I’m getting off so much on the food like you do, but more on you getting off on it?”

 

Dean just snorts at Sam’s ineloquence, and cuts off his brother’s continued, blustering attempts to speak. “Whatever you say, little brother. Either way, we’ll both get off and with a bonus of pie filling for later. I even got your favorite,” he adds, nudging the can of cherry pie filling a little closer to Sam.

 

“Okay. You’re right, I’m down. But let’s do this in the shower, maybe? So we don’t make a mess.”

 

“I got us covered. C'mon.” Dean snatches up the can and the waiting opener, leading Sam back to their bedroom. The bed is covered in a shiny material, and Sam’s jaw drops just a little.

 

“You bought a rubber sheet?” he asks, surprised.

 

“I just thought...man, you know cleaning up is a hassle sometimes. This’ll just wipe right off.” Dean rubs at his neck awkwardly, wondering if he’d gotten a little too freaky until Sam pulls him in for a kiss.

 

“Awesome. Shall we?”

 

They strip leisurely, putting their clothes well out of harm’s way before moving to the bed.

 

“How do we -” Dean starts, eyeing the mattress and Sam in turns.

 

“Side by side? Like when we -” Sam swallows, not finishing the thought but Dean hears the _when we were kids_ loud and clear. They don’t talk much about their relationship pre-Stanford, and Dean’s not sure if they ever will.

 

“Yeah,” Dean just nods. “It’d be the easiest.”

 

Climbing up onto the bed, they settle side by side. It’s not as comfortable without pillows, but Sam’s weight is warm and familiar beside him. There’s an awkward silence interrupted only by the grating sound of the can opener, and Dean winces. Maybe they should’ve thought this through a bit more. Still, with a ping, the lid comes free and he tosses it toward the wastebasket, placing the can itself in the space between them.

 

Scooping up some of the filling with two fingers, Dean shifts enough that he can draw Sam in for a kiss with his free hand. There’s a little hiss when the cold, sticky substance makes contact with Sam’s cock, but Dean distracts him with a nip at his bottom lip. Kissing Sam is always good; his brother throws himself into it with a ferocity that never fails to turn Dean on.

 

Cool slick suddenly gets smeared over his dick, and Dean’s hips jerk at the sensation. Sam quickly wraps a hand around him and starts stroking. They have to shift around some, making room for their movements.

 

Dean goes back for more of the filling, sweet scent filling his nose. It squishes in his hand, makes slick slapping sounds as he strokes Sam’s cock, and it’s not long before Sam’s going for a handful of his own. Dean groans when the excess slides slowly down his cock, and he shivers hard when the pie filling inches its way down over his balls.

 

He’s panting curses into Sam’s mouth with every kiss, breaking away now and again to watch their hands. They’re both sticky-red, bits of fruit creating irregular drags of sensation. And damn if Sam isn’t watching, too.

 

Thrusting his hips into the circle of Sam’s fingers, Dean tightens his grip and strokes faster, and moaning loud when Sam returns the favor. They devolve into a slick mess, hips thrusting and hands stroking until they’re fumbling. Sam sits up, pushing the can out of the way so he can kneel and drags Dean up wit him. More filling comes out of the near-empty can and gets slicked over them both, Sam’s long fingers pressing them together. This is better, dirtier, rutting against his little brother with tacky slick between them, his hand sticky and wet on Sam’s hip. Dean grunts low as he comes, hips bucking erratically. Creamy white swirls into bright red, and Sam doesn’t last long before he let’s out one loud curse and adding his own come to the mix.

 

Sam’s head thunks down on Dean’s shoulder, Dean resting his own on Sam’s while they pant into the silence. Their bellies and cocks and thighs are a riot of white and pink and red, the sheet shiny below them where drips and smears are scattered across its surface.

 

“Okay so . . . so maybe you’re not alone in the thing,” Sam admits after a while, inspecting his come-and-pie-filling coated hand.

 

“The kink, Sam. It’s a kink.”

 

Sam just ignores Dean’s ribbing, instead lifting his head up to look his brother square in the eye while he licks his own palm clean. Dean just groans when his cock twitches, closing his eyes to save himself from his brother’s teasing.

 


End file.
